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 May 2017 Lorelei
SE Reimer
~

steps beyond his stalwart hedge,
white pickets lined with flowery speech;
’cross a boulevard of words,
the shade of tree-lined poetry;
he’s drawn to her celestial sound,
seeks comfort in her sultry voice.
pandora's lounge, her nightly stage,
in every breathy note she sings.
their presence here he’s prearranged,
respires her palette’s offerings;
each tapestry-a-washed crescendo,
her every soulful whispering,
incites his heart to joyous tears;
his ev'ry sense engulfed, aflame,
her afterglow, like sun's refrain;
to hers, two eyes an opening,
his ears to sounds beyond;
the tongue to taste, a bounty waiting,
her touch too sweet, his blood is racing.
spellbound by her bluesy song,
raptured by her fragrant breath;
to her rhythm his heart beats strong,
he's captured in her blue’s caress.

~

post script.

i make no apologies in the admission that i'm easy prey for a bluesy voice, the feminine variety in particular.  add a British / Euro tone and my soul may just melt.  Norah’s... i’ve a jones for hers!

~

*Come Away With Me
Norah Jones

Come away with me in the night
Come away with me
And I will write you a song
Come away with me on a bus
Come away where they can't tempt us, with their lies
And I want to walk with you
On a cloudy day
In fields where the yellow grass grows knee-high
So won't you try to come
Come away with me and we'll kiss
On a mountaintop
Come away with me
And I'll never stop loving you
And I want to wake up with the rain
Falling on a tin roof
While I'm safe there in your arms
So all I ask is for you
To come away with me in the night
Come away with me
 May 2017 Lorelei
SE Reimer
(April’s full moon)

~

her beauty always
catches me unprepared
her reflection is
a poet’s muse
and as so oft before
tonight again, i pause
and wonder long...
"who else, my love,
is watching you?"

~

post script.

along with watching April’s moon grow full these last few nights, Sally’s poem is tonight my muse. thank you, dear sister, and friend!
https://hellopoetry.com/poem/1922140/one-full-moon-night/

**“Full Pink Moon – April This name came from the herb moss pink, or wild ground phlox, which is one of the earliest widespread flowers of the spring.”
 Sep 2016 Lorelei
Darkly
There are some who may prefer a cloudless sky and the touch of a warm sun. These hearts are similar climates, and you may find them at no great distance from the equator.

Not mine.

My love is for the sedge and moss covered upland of frozen lakes, where the cold white blanket covers the steppes. Peace is found here, among the ice and whispered within the biting gale as it travels over her skin.

Her chill breath touches me, and I am not driven away.
For within my chest beats a fire as black as space between the stars.

And I go unclothed, as the caribou carry me across the frozen land.

I am the horned god.
Like I said. Frayed hair dipped in barbecue sauce. I can't even.
 Sep 2016 Lorelei
Stephan
.

I sat at my piano

tickling the keys

as your lips
tickled mine

and our hearts composed
a perfect duet

in the key of love
Compact Poem Series
 Sep 2016 Lorelei
Stephan
.

On those dire days

when your smile

has abandoned you and worry walks
in your shadow

I will also be walking, but by your side

with one

only for you
Compact Poem Series
 Sep 2016 Lorelei
SøułSurvivør
i write

like a dance, swirling

ink on the page


if writing is an

art of motion

make

my

poetry



BALLET!



SoulSurvivor
(C) 9/14/2016
Based on a comment made to another poet who had perfected the art.


~~<♡>~~
 Sep 2016 Lorelei
Pagan Paul
.
I am
Moontouched
a slight disaffection
from the real.

Yet,
in my lunar sea
a calm circulating
orbit wheels.

I am
Moontouched
an angle from
the hearts core.

Yet,
in my love fall
a slow spiral
loops playful.


© Pagan Paul (07/07/16)
Meanings: Moontouched 1) mentally ill, 2) in love.
PPx
 Sep 2016 Lorelei
SE Reimer
a tribute

~

memories...
in fading sepia we find,
the romance of
another time;
albums filled
with black and white,
of glossy faces
burnt in fading light;
boxes of our ko-dak-chro-ments,
gone-by treasures,
once-upon-a-moments;
wistful years once crystal clear,
mem’ries drowned in haze,
resurface now,
renewed in tears,
...as we remember well.

memories...
the yellow ribbons tied,
’round an ol’ oak tree;
anxious waiting to make an “us”,
the anticipation of a “he and me”;
until the news from distant shore,
yet another casualty of war,
and now remains but this,
a marble slab inscribed,
in accolades of former glory,
merely remnants ’midst the pines;
on forest lawn where promises,
tween two for’er became untwined,
...as she remembers well.

memories...
so many are the ways
the mem’ry onward lives
even this, a,
“do this in...” request
restores a covenant anew
a "remembrance of..."
the “we” here left behind,
be it in the bread we break,
this forever to remind,
a sacrosanct entreaty made,
promise sealed as blood in wine,
reserving not for deities alone,
but given us immortal souls,
to us a gift at birth,
of staggering import,
responsibility of heavy worth;
of after-ashes keeping still,
an ever-after captured with
the shutter, brush and quill,
...so we remember well.

memories...
its keeping cherished lovingly
though its loss,
its diminishment bereaved;
as lovers silent grieve,
those lost to us yet breathe,
in memories ’midst the breeze.
forgetful of the slightest
until one day in finality
their mortal soul is set free
into immortality.
...to for’er remember.

memories...
to us, a call, a charge,
a “ne’er forget”
a duty large
a “do this in
remembrance of”
this our promise
to e’er remember,
always keep;
forgetting never,
to carry the flame,
while we yet live
in sunshine’s grip;
an oath is sworn,
that forever we,
shall always ready be,
for in remembering best,
the tears flow easily,
and so it isn't pity,
of a loss i seek,
no,
for ’tis in finding memory
that i shall always weep,
...as i remember well.

~

post script.

of love lost in the haze of war; of lives changing motion, a baby is born, as a grandmother moves into memory care... a cycle of life, brought full circle best in remembrance.  and this makes remembering perhaps the most important facet that defines, sets us apart as humans, best captured in this thought, "in forgetting the past we cease to be and bring hope forward for the future. and so we remember... for we must never forget!” and so we line our shelves, our walls with them, visiting inscribed stones behind fences.  

dedicated today to our memories each of loved ones, lovers lost; but on this dark eve, especially those who lost those souls, three thousand strong, a darkest day of remembrance, this September the eleventh, who never got to say goodbye... so we remember well!
 Sep 2016 Lorelei
Vesna Rau
Don’t play it again Sam

The same old story *****

Humphrey and Ingrid are
continuing their friendship in haven

The Casablanca is no more
what it used to be

The World is no more the same

So, don’t play it again Sam

Please
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